


Porny Drabbles

by Thuri



Category: Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-01
Updated: 2004-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 07:41:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/440829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thuri/pseuds/Thuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porn, basically</p>
            </blockquote>





	Porny Drabbles

**Author's Note:**

> Drabbles done for [](http://nothing-to-say.livejournal.com/profile)[**nothing_to_say**](http://nothing-to-say.livejournal.com/), when she requested porn drops. They weren't supposed to be related to each other, but read in a certain order they work. So I leave it up to you, if this is all one story, or bits and pieces on their own.

"Please . . ." Merry breathes.

"Please?" Pippin asks, eyebrow rising, as his hand moves lazily over Merry's erect cock, gathering the moisture leaking from the tip and spreading it over the smooth skin. "Please, what, Merry-mine? What do you want from me?"

But Merry can not form the words, to tell Pippin what it is he needs, and Pippin does not need to hear them. He knows, as he always does. Knows better than Merry himself.

"Not yet, Mer. Not until I say so," he adds, a smile few who know innocent little Pippin Took would recognize on his face. "And I don't, not yet."

~~~~

"Don't move, Merry-mine."

The words are softly spoken, loving and gentle. Yet deadly serious. Anticipation curls in his belly, and hardens him, though Pippin has not yet touched him. It happens every time, the game never growing old for either. A smile crosses his face, and Merry submits.

Hands, lips, teeth, glide over his skin. Pinching, pulling, suckling, biting, scraping. He is lucky, he thinks, that he is not so pale as Pippin, or the marks would be deeper, and harder to explain to the others, when his shirt slips, when they stop to bathe. A low moan, all he is allowed, he knows, escapes him, as Pippin's teeth find his nipple, his hand his cock.

He stills the arching of his back, the thrusting of his hips, stills the movement he aches for. Pippin's pressure is too little, too light, and he knows he must obey, or it will not increase.

"Look at me, Merry."

His eyes meet Pippin's, a storm contained within the grey, as he does not speak, does not move.

And is rewarded, as oiled fingers slip lower, and open him. It will not be long, now, for either of them.

~~~~

Grey dawn filters through the window, and Merry watches, as colour gradually returns to the world, to Pippin's face above him. It flushes his cheeks, reddens his lips, deepens the green of his eyes. Cinnamon curls spark in the sudden light, dark brows furrow, and Pippin groans, thrusting deeper.

Merry arches up to meet him, hands opening and closing on white pillows above his head, blue grey eyes fighting to stay open, golden hair darkening with sweat. He is open and wanting and loving, lost in the sensation, the colour of his love.


End file.
